


Awake

by tealourry



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: AU, Accident, Character Death, Father!Louis, Harry Styles - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mental AU, One direction AU, father!harry, larry au, mental Harry, one direction - Freeform, parenting fic, physical Harry, physical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:55:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1364803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealourry/pseuds/tealourry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Larry AU: After an accident, Harry has to come to terms with the fact that his life has literally split in two.</p><p>This is also on Tumblr (larry-larryx.tumblr.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awake

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Larry AU based off of the show Awake, starring Jason Isaacs. Personally, it was one of my favorite shows, but was unfortunately canceled before the first season ended. :-( In the first episode, Isaacs' character and his family were in an accident, afterwards resulting in him waking up to his wife dead, and his son alive. He goes to sleep, and wakes up with his son dead and wife alive. It continues in that pattern, and he struggles to figure out which life is real. In other words, it's almost as if he's living two lives. I added a few scenarios that weren't in the show, specifically one important sort of "diagnosis" that I've created. Don't take me seriously, this is purely fiction.  
>    
> Obviously, I'm switching a few things up, but it's overall an AU. There is no fame in this oneshot.  Enjoy!

On a cool night in early October, an accident was reported on a motorway just outside of Manchester. Within ten minutes of the report being issued, seven police vehicles, two ambulances, even a van from a fire station were on the scene, with over twenty people and loads of traffic around the wrecked car. Glass was shattered into and out on the ground, the burgundy colored Jeep had completely rolled off the side of the road, and its left side lay against a tree. (With further investigation later on, the detectives would find that the driver was not under the influence of drugs nor did he have traces of alcohol in his system). There were three occupants in the car, all unconscious, and the driver's body had been thrown over the passenger's.   
   
Both men were limp, the passenger's head flung against the window, cracks around the glass, and blood dripping down from his temple, scattered dots on the seat. The young man who was across the other's lap had cuts on his face, gashes on his hands and was bleeding from the amount of shards that had hit him directly. In a carrier in the backseat was a young girl, no more than four months old. She looked like the man who was thrown into the window, with a large cut in her left leg that would need immediate medical attention,  or would otherwise become infected. The carrier had been forced from its hold and was now wedged between the seat and the footwell, small pink cap hanging limply off and a forming bruise as well as a small bump on her head from the impact of the fall.   
   
The team worked for a good forty-five minutes to an hour to get the victims out, the car doors having been lodged shut, the only possible way they were able to get in. All three were airlifted to the hospital after a last minute decision, see in how much the driver was actually bleeding once he was put onto the stretcher. By that time, news helicopters were above the horrific scene, news vans pulled up around the bend, and traffic was stopped completely, with bystanders standing around in order to catch a glimpse as to what had happened. Within minutes, the news made media headlines about the two men and their young daughter.  
   
   
*  
   
Sunday

Three weeks later…

   
It was the same way he woke up today that he had woken up for weeks. Every morning, Harry would wake in a cold sweat after reliving the crash in his dreams through the night. It was always the same: he'd launch up in mid breath with the sheets tangled around him as he panted, trying his best to regain his composure. His time at the hospital, as one could imagine, was not a pleasant one. When he woke up fifteen hours after coming out of surgery, he was informed of the accident and his condition when rescued. The doctor had explained thoroughly about what the team had done, and reassured the young father when he panicked, demanding to know where his daughter was. Luckily, she was safe, and a nurse had been with her in the NICU. She was perfectly fine, eating normally, and healthy as could be. A miracle.  
   
It was when Harry asked about his husband that the doctor's expression had turned grim.   
   
With a heavy heart, the older man delivered the news to Harry, whose mind, at the words, wondered off in disbelief. Louis was killed in the accident when his body was thrown across Harry's own. He had been driving when he'd lost control of the car, but no matter how hard he tried, Harry could barely remember anything. Just a flash of lights, he stated, despite not colliding with another car.  
   
They buried Louis just days after Harry and their daughter Avery were discharged from the hospital. He found himself unable to sleep in their once shared bed, which led to his lack of sleep until his mother begged him to lay down even for an hour. It had gotten to the point where her son was staring off to nothing, refusing to even look at Avery because she was almost Louis' twin. However, after much self-coaxing, Harry tended to her in the middle of the night when she cried, whispering apologies for having ignored her. He kissed the pale, faded scratches on her cheek and rocked her until she slept again.   
   
At the funeral, she must have sensed everyone's sorrow and mourning when she began to wail loudly to the point where Harry had to take her out of the room to calm her (and himself) down. To Harry, the day was too sunny, too beautiful, to be laying someone down for an eternal rest after such a horrific circumstance. There was big turnout as well, Louis' friends and extended family filling the church pews, but only immediate family and close friends on both sides had ventured back to their house afterward.   
   
And then there was today. It wasn't much different, his mum as well as Louis' were still calling him several times a day until Harry was able to get back on his feet. His best friend, Liam stopped by once a day, as well. 

He hadn't stepped foot at work since the night before the accident, his boss giving him some time off, sending his condolences.   
   
From the faint noise coming from the baby monitor, Harry was informed that Avery was awake and laying restless in her cot as she waited to be picked up. His mind began to wander as he lifted the baby girl and cuddled her close. Was she wondering where her other father was? Was she in pain from her (luckily somewhat minor) injuries? Or was it that Harry was too mournful about losing his best friend and the love of his life and it had begun to rub off on their daughter? He prayed it wasn't any of that as he looked into her tired blue eyes as they gazed sleepily round the room, her head collapsing into Harry's bare chest.   
   
"Your daddy still loves you," he whispered quietly, Avery's hand closing around Harry's thumb. His lips lingered on the dusty brown hair on her head, so soft as it tickled his nose. "And you look so much like him…"  
   
Though it was something that he probably shouldn't dwell on as much as he had been the past few days, Harry begun to think about what he would say to his daughter when she was old enough to understand that her father was no longer with them. In some odd, almost impossible way, he thought that she may already realize it.   
   
There was a squeak of a door closing before, "Harry?"  
   
He bundled the infant up in a blanket, rushing to his room quick and tugging on one of his clean jumpers. In the lounge hanging up his coat, Harry found Liam. He looked up and gave his friend a wry smile, walking over and clasping a hand on his shoulder.   
   
"Alright?"  
   
Harry sighed, looking at his feet and swallowing hard. "Mh…"  
   
"C'mon. I'll put the kettle on." With a soft hand, he guided his friend into the kitchen.  
   
He stayed silent as Liam watched him sympathetically. The silence, if at all possible, was deafeningly loud. The staring was changed from Harry to Avery as Liam set the mug down before him, sitting down across the table.  
   
"Harry."  
   
He looked up from his daughter, who had managed to fall back asleep. Liam had a glint in his eye, and he knew that a heartfelt of sympathy sided with encouragement to getting back onto his feet was about to be said.  
   
"Before you say it," he raised a hand. "I'll address it for you: When the love of your life and someone you've been best friends with for years is killed in an accident and someone tells you to accept it, then you tell me how you feel."  
   
Liam remained silent. By now he'd learned to keep his mouth shut when Harry needed to vent. It would result in a screaming match, otherwise.  
   
"Because it's not a good feeling. It's not like when you have a baby, because that's the best fucking thing in the world. But losing someone you love while your baby hasn't had enough time with them…that's the thing that hurts the fucking most," Harry growled. He breathed heavily through gritted teeth. "So don't bullshit me, Liam. Because this isn't something I can get over easily!"  
   
It was so rare that Harry swore, only if he was being defensive or if it was about something that truly bothered him, but given the circumstances, no one questioned it. Harry wanted to sleep and never wake up, to just be with Louis. Of course it was a cruel thing for him to do to his daughter; she wouldn't even remember him and Harry felt guilty of that. He remembered laughing along with his husband as they reminisced old times during the drive. His laughing was the reason that they crashed, and he refused to believe otherwise. He'd distracted Louis, and at the last second something happened. He didn't care if they said that Louis had merely lost control of the car; Harry was too deep in sorrow to come to terms with it.   
   
When he was ten, Louis had moved next-door, and being friends with someone who was older than you was supposed to be cool. Everyone at school had one, and Harry wanted to be the same. 

Something about Louis made Harry go into complete admiration-drool mode when he saw him. And as they got older, admiration turned to red-hot, unexplainable feelings. And it was incredible. Harry would watch as Louis ran around kicking at the football as he admired the older boy's curves. How could a boy look like that? Something must have been in the milk in order to create something so…perfect. And Avery was an exact copy: she looked just like him with her blue eyes and smile and the dusty brown hair on her head. She had his features and Harry wondered how he’d gotten lucky enough to earn such a gorgeous family. Gorgeous even through their bad habits.  
   
Like when he was twenty, Harry picked up Louis' habit of folding down one corner of the bed sheets when they were freshly made, but stuck to his habit of keeping it an untidy mess once ruined. He luckily didn't pick up his bad habit of anger-cleaning/organizing OCD; when he was moody, Louis would wordlessly storm upstairs and reorganize their room, followed by the bathroom, linen closet, toiletries, kitchen et cetera. It was insane, and annoyed Harry to no limit when he couldn't find something, but he never complained because he wouldn't ever change it (though it got a bit ridiculous when Louis tried to alphabetize the closet by brand name and size that one time). And the amount of times that Harry would jokingly threaten Louis about holding an intervention was probably just as rediculous.

"I wasn't going to ask you to."

…Oh.

"I mean, this has never happened to me, so I can't exactly give you…perfect advice," Liam continued. His brows were creased in the faintest way. "And I'm not gonna say that I know how you feel…What I mean is…have you slept?"

That wasn't exactly what he was expecting to hear Harry say. In fact, he was expecting things along the lines of "I'm sorry" and "I wish he was still here as well." But "have you slept?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "Not-not well."

Liam frowned. "Sorry to say that I'd expect you not to," he said, fidgeting with his hands. Silent beat. "Have you thought about talking to someone?"

"I'm talking to someone right now."

"I mean a professional, Harry."

"What like a shrink?"

Liam nodded with slight hesitation.

"No. And I have no intention to, either." He moved to stand up, squinting slightly at his friend. "They don't work; they never have. I'm not going to close my eyes and pick some random guy I find mid-way through the Yellow Pages, call them up and say, 'Hey, I'd like to talk about the traumatic accident that I just lost my husband in. What time are you free?' They don't work, Liam. And I don't wanna be prescribed something; I've been put on enough pain medication to last until I'm at least eighty. For all I know, they'll lock me up in some institute and have me monitored 24/7 so I don't do anything-"

"They're not gonna-"

"You don't know that," he argued, head swimming with other theories. "I just…what if it doesn't help?"

"Is that what you're really afraid of?"

He nodded slowly. "…Louis' always been the one to help me with stuff, but he's-" Harry cut himself off as Avery started wriggling around, becoming restless. He couldn't bear to say that Louis was gone. Not again. He's heard it too many times, and yet he still refused to believe it.

"I know he has. But he'd want you to actually sleep right? I know you've been reliving the accident."

Harry looked up to protest, his mouth already open.

"Don't lie. I know you too well." He paused for a second. "Something scares you and you have dreams about it. And then you don't sleep, right? Besides, saying you're not tired is a damn lie." He gestured a hand towards Harry's face before continuing. "You've got circles under your eyes."

"I have a baby, you know," he huffed. "I don't get much sleep from her, either."

"Yeah, but you'd never willingly blame lack of sleep on Avery."

Sometimes, it irked Harry that Liam had the air of being annoyingly correct with his observations. If he closed his eyes tight enough, he thought, maybe he'd be able to turn invisible and reverse everything that's happened. Or maybe he'd just stay silent.

He opted to stay silent.

"So what do you say? Would you go and talk to someone?"

Harry shrugged, unsure with how to answer.

"What if I recommended someone to you? Or you could ask your doctor; they can usually help with that stuff."

"Why, do you know someone?" he asked, completely ignoring the second statement.

"No. But if I found someone would you at least try?"

Really, he couldn't say no. Liam was Liam, and he'd go off and find someone suitable anyway. Not to mention he was a little relentless when helping friends, almost like he was breathing down your neck. 

"Okay," he nodded. "If you can find someone, and you think I'll trust them, then I'll give it a shot." 

His friend smiled gratefully. "Thank you." He almost sounded desperate. "Do you want to see if you can sleep a bit longer? I can watch her."

"I don't think I'll be able to: if I'm up, then I'm up."

Liam didn't argue with that. 

*

At two thirty when Harry put Avery down for her nap, he curled up onto the bed with Louis' pillow tucked into his arms and under his head. His hands were shaky as he dialed his mum's number, Anne picking up after the third ring.

"Hi sweetie," she greeted through the phone. Her voice was mellow, calming, and just what he needed.

"Hi, Mum." Harry sniffed and scrubbed at his eyes, his throat beginning to tighten from the withheld tears.

"How are you today?" Anne's voice was hesitant.

"Uhm…been better." 

There was a long silence before she spoke up. "H? Are you there…?"

"W-what did I do to deserve this, Mum?" Harry sobbed into the phone. "Why is he gone?"

"Harry, love, you haven't done anything wrong. Don't convince yourself of that. An angel was needed."

"And they couldn't have taken me?" By now, he was in utter hysterics. "He's gone because of me. Me. I thought I would be able to have that white picket fence with a dog kind of family, but Louis' gone. I'd rather I was the one who died!"

From her end of the line, Anne sighed, and with a shaky voice said, "Harry, don't-don't say that…Please don't say that."

"I want Louis…" He pressed his face into the pillow and closed his eyes. "I just want Louis."

"We all do, hun. You can talk to him, you know."

Harry knew what she meant. 

When he was little, when his grandfather died, Anne told him that when it was quiet, and calm, and when he was alone and somewhat peaceful, he would be able to talk to him. They'd been close, and since then, Harry believed in that sort of thing completely. He was yet to try it with Louis, however. He was afraid to, because he didn't want to move on from not being able to look at him and talk in the flesh.

"I-…yeah." 

"Rest," was her encouraging response. "I'll call again in the morning."

"Yeah."

Silent beat. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, Mum."

They said their goodbyes, promising to talk soon and hung up. He set his phone aside and rolled over with a heavy breath facing the window, arms sprawled out around him. He remained motionless for a few slow minutes as he stared blankly ahead of him. Why didn't anything ever work out for him? Did a higher power have something against him, or was he just incredibly unlucky? 

"Lou," he started hesitantly. His voice was that of a choked whisper, almost clogging. "I'm so sorry…" He rubbed roughly at his eyes. "I didn't want this to happen…it's all my fault. It is… and-and now you're gone…And I can't stand the fact that it wasn't me who got the worst of it." 

Harry stopped at those last words, the tightness of his throat making it almost unbearable to even swallow. His entire body felt heavy, and warm, and he ached all over. A tragic thing like losing someone you love more than anything in the world could make you want to do anything to be with them again, and Harry was shocked to realize he hadn't done anything drastic to himself. Maybe cried himself dry, but that was it. 

And was it bad that Harry had then begun thinking about his daughter's future? She would have a father, but only one. Unlike most families she had two parents who were both male, and were happily married and content with their lives. Happy. Unlike most families, Harry was now a single parent having to raise a baby, and without Louis he was sure he'd screw it up. 

"You can't think that way," he whispered, trying to convince himself. 

There was also the fact that Harry worked in an office five days a week and his hours were nine to five every day, and he couldn't exactly just skip on home and stay with Avery all day. He needed to make a living and support the two of them somehow. However now he was recovering from the accident, so what was the point of over thinking as of right now. He was given paid time off, along with condolences from his boss. "Take all the time you need," he'd said. "Come back when you're ready."

Harry continuously believed that he didn't deserve all the help and sympathy he was getting, probably for Avery anyway. It was his fault after all, wasn't it? That Louis had died? Once again he was convincing himself of that, for what was the second time that day. He was laughing, and Louis looked over at him as Harry went on about an old memory, and then…

And then that was it. That's all he remembered besides someone yelling. He couldn't remember if it was himself or Louis, but he didn't want to know. Even if he was given the opportunity, the bone-chilling scream was enough to last him decades, as it was impossible to forget, and he never wanted to hear it again. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Avery's crying coming from the nursery next door. Harry's actions were sluggish as he made his way over to her.

"I'm sorry sweetie…were you lonely?" He kissed the side of her head as she began to relax. "I'm not good with this…Daddy was so much better. He could calm you down in only a few minutes…and you would snuggle into him, and you loved him. I loved him."

Harry paused, looking down at Avery whose wails had condensed to whimpers. 

"And Daddy could get you to sleep, but I wasn't able to," he added, smiling to himself. "You don't really like to cooperate with me, however."

It was true in a sense; whenever Avery was beginning to get grumpy or fidgety and didn't want to go to bed, she would practically have a screaming fit while Harry rocked her. But with Louis, it seemed that she was more content, which wasn't as surprising as it should be considering how wonderful he was with kids. A natural, more like.

As Harry continued on talking to his daughter, telling her stories about Louis as he cried a little-"Daddy and I would talk about having a wonderful little baby just like you. All perfect and snuggly, all things considered."-against all odds he managed to get her to sleep. With cautious, careful movements, Harry tucked her into the cot after kissing her goodnight, then headed back to his own bed, falling into a somewhat fitful sleep.

 

*

Monday

How is it that someone that could barely get to sleep the night before deem it one of the actual best they'd had in a long time? That was Harry's first thought when the seeping rays of consciousness began the next morning. The bed was nice and cozy, his eyes felt relaxed, but as if they were stitched shut, and it was the kind of comfort that you needed when you were sick or after doing a lot of physical work the day prior. Harry felt as if he were sixteen once again, and that his mum was going to walk in, switch on the light and open the curtains to let the sun in as she told him to get up and get ready for school. He prayed that it wouldn't happen, because he just promised himself that he was going to stay in bed all day and sleep, and not wake up for anything. 

But then, as he went to turn over, his cheek collided with a solid, warm…thing. Honestly, he couldn't tell what it was, but when he opened his eyes, he could see the tanned skin of a folded arm. Harry let his eyes trail up to find its owner's face just inches from him. Who he saw made his breath catch, and he immediately flung back from his spot.

Louis?

Louis…

Harry stumbled back off the bed, falling on his bum colliding with the carpeted floor. He managed to pull the duvet off with him, waking Louis who slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. How could he be physically present and solid when he was supposed to be dead? It stunned Harry to no end. And then Louis spoke up.

"What's wrong, H? Everything alright?"

Harry's eyes were wide with shock; Louis didn't have an airy echoing to his voice like a ghost was usually portrayed having. In fact, his husband was completely human to say the least. Flesh and blood. Had it all been a dream?

"Harry. Are you going to answer me, or are you going to just stand there?" Louis mumbled tiredly.

This was all too much, and Harry launched up and bolted from the room, ignoring his husband's calls after him. In a slight sweat from his jumped nerves, he rushed down the hall and pushed open the door to Avery's nursery. The quaint room, sweet-smelling with the yellow walls was empty, and the lightwood crib that was pushed up under the window was empty, the bears and blanket piled neatly within it. 

"No…no!" 

Harry rushed over and bent down to take a closer look, and sure enough, his daughter was not laying peacefully within it waiting for someone to enter and be social with her. She wasn't there, and it only made Harry think the worst. With a pounding heart, he spun on his heel and sped out to the hall once again, shaking with panic, and almost immediately bumping into Louis.

"What's wrong with you today?" Louis exclaimed in confusion. "You're all jumpy and-"

"You're dead." Harry shook his head. "You were supposed to be dead. You were yesterday, and Avery…Avery-she was in the cot. I-I put her to bed last night, I swear. She was crying and everything-"

"Wait, wait, wait…What do you mean I was dead yesterday, Harry…?" Louis' voice was grave and chilled Harry's bones with anxiety. "Maybe you had a dream about the crash? I'm fine, only some scratches and a brace on my leg as well as some physical therapy. For both of us. That and painkillers."

"But where's Avery?" Harry was insistent, but his voice was shaky.

The pause and silence was too long for him, and the blood had begun to pound in his ears as they started ringing.

"She died, Harry," he whispered. His eyes began to tear as he caught his breath. "Avery was killed…Sweetheart, she didn't make it." 

"No," he choked, his voice inaudible. He shook his head rapidly. "No-o…I was just with her yesterday. Liam came over and she cried while I was putting her to sleep."

Louis swallowed. "Maybe she was visiting you in a dream, and it felt real? That could have been it, hun."

"But it wasn't. I know that it wasn't."

The smaller man went to embrace Harry, but he flinched away. To say that he was "confused" would be the worst possible word to use. Weird, or slightly traumatizing would be a better fit at most. Not wanting to stand there and watch as Louis channeled disappointment and sympathy towards Harry any longer, he trailed aimlessly down to the lounge and curled up tight in the far corner of the couch. His mind began to wander with horrifying questions.

If Louis was alive, then what the hell was all that yesterday?

Why was it all so real, and why did a higher power decide that it would be smart enough to take a little baby girl-his baby girl-away from them? From two loving, caring parents?

Were they not good enough? Didn't they deserve a chance at a family, a chance that would actually last a lifetime? Not a short amount of time?

He sat there for an half an hour staring straight ahead with the questions swimming around before Louis came to check on him, freshly washed and shaven, with clothes on and his brace over his knee. He had a towel hanging around his neck as he scrunched his hair in attempt to dry it.

"Are you alright?"

Harry stared back at him, one side of his mouth twitching down with a flash which only made his eyes dart down to the fabric of the sofa.

"I know you're upset…but babe, it was a dream, and she's still with us in spirit. I cry all the time, and it's not something we're going to get over easily." He inched closer to Harry who only leaned back when Louis got close enough to brush his cheek with the tips of his fingers. "It's not easy losing a child…and a parent should never outlive them."

With all his might, Harry let himself find the blue-grey eyes that belonged to the man he was in love with. He was beautiful, and Avery was equally so.

"Why would anyone take away my beautiful baby girl…? I never got enough time with her, and now she's gone." Harry shivered at the words, foreign on his tongue. "Louis…this isn't fair."

He frowned. "Would you rather I be dead?"

"No!" 

"I wish she was here, too. I understand that it's hard to figure out what the dream was really about…but we're going to get through this. And I can promise you that."

Harry nodded hesitantly. 

Louis crouched down in front of the couch and looked up at Harry. His lips tilted downwards and he sighed. Harry was already on the edge of his seat, leaning partway over the arm as he arched away; he was just in shock at the fact that everything had turned a complete 180 in mere hours. In one sleep, he woke in what felt like a different life. It had to be a different life…It definitely was.

"We'll be okay," Louis whispered. His hand was dangerously close to Harry's ankle, his fingers brushing the fabric of his sweats. 

The longest round of silence allowable played out before Harry stood wordlessly and stepped around Louis and headed into the kitchen. He downed a tall glass of water which chilled his teeth, his eyes squinting shut. He made an executive decision to get dressed and go out on a walk to clear his mind. This was all too confusing.

So, fifteen minutes later with a camouflage green peacoat over his loose jumper, Harry was walking down a path with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He had his head facing the pavement as he carried on towards a bench where he eventually sat. 

He waited. 

Probably for nothing, but yet for some sign of sanity. Though he didn't see that happening for a long while. He wanted Louis to come and hug him, but he knew the minute he was in any physical contact (at least for right now) with his husband he would flinch away. He wanted to go home and snuggle with his daughter and lay her on his chest, but apparently she wasn't there anymore and this life was…it felt wrong. The other one felt so much more realistic, and yet so did this. It didn't make sense how someone could lose a husband then wake and lose his daughter. 

Harry prayed that he hadn't made some utterly horrible wish whilst half asleep laying in bed. 

"Why is it that I feel the constant need to say that I'm sorry?" he wondered aloud, head tilted back. 

From afar, his body language to a passerby would make him look stressed or maybe anxious, or tired. They couldn't be more right if they tried. 

His phone started buzzing in his pocket, startling him from his thoughts. 

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" It was Louis.

He hesitated before responding with, "The park."

"H…" He sounded so choked up. How was that even possible? "Come home babe. I want to talk."

"You have me right now. G'head and talk."

There was a distressed sigh from Louis' end of the line. "I just…maybe we should go see someone?"

"Another therapist-"

"Another?"

"Long story…the-Forget it." 

"Oh…" Louis paused. "But, yeah. Maybe we should go see someone? Just for a little while. I can get a recommendation from work. Alright?"

"Y-you're going back to work…?" He made the assumption that he was staying home for a while.

"No. Not yet. But I can send something out for a rec." 

"O-ok," he breathed. "Yeah."

"Ok…Harry?"

"Mh?"

"You'll be home soon?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I worry, sorry."

"Don't be. I'll see you in a little bit."

Harry remained at the park for another hour.

 

*

"Nice and relaxing?"

Those were the first words that Louis spoke when Harry reentered the house later on that day.

"Nice enough." He sat across from him at the table, grabbing a pice of toast from the stack in the center.

"You look like you were thinking," Louis muttered as he swallowed. 

"How can you tell?"

"I've known you for years. Therefore I know you too well." He spread a bit of jam onto his slice before passing the jar to Harry, who turned it down.

"I suppose so…How can't I, though? I'm always thinking."

"Now, at least." 

Harry nodded wordlessly and watched as bits fell onto the plate as he crumbled the food. 

"You're not going to sleep in the guest room tonight, right?"

Harry looked up at him. "No, I'm not going to do that."

Louis' face seemed to become less pale and his posture improved as he was given the response that he most definitely wanted to hear.

"Thank you."

His response was a simple not with pursed lips tilted slightly downward which you could notice only if you squinted or looked carefully. The pair sat in silence for the longest time, just alternating between who was using the butter or one of the spreads for the toast, and they both basically spoiled their dinner, going to bed right after Harry showered and just called it a night.

However they didn't fall asleep, as neither were tired. Harry maneuvered himself to the very least amount of space on the bed, somehow managing to not tip off. He pulled his body into a straight parallel and didn't let his legs move from that tight uncomfortable position for the forty-five minutes that he lay there with the soft noises of the television behind him. Louis whispered a goodnight before turning the light off, which Harry had just sighed to. 

He finally fell asleep at nine fifty-three.

*

Tuesday

Harry could hear the patter of rain agains the bedroom windows when he woke up Tuesday morning. It was soothing enough to urge him to fall back asleep. But he resisted and rolled over, face planting into a pile of cool pillows. He let his eyes flutter open and looked at the other side of the bed to see it empty, the duvet messily tugged towards the center of the bed. Suddenly realizing how warm he felt, Harry sat up and let the sheets fall off his chest into a mess by his lap. 

"Louis…?"

There was no response, so he tried again, a little louder this time. 

Nothing.

He got up and walked around the house for a minute, finding everything in tact and clean. The dishes he had left in the sink the previous day were gone, and there was a note on the counter by a bottle of water with the word "medication" written in his quick scrawl. He sighed and counted out the tablets-four, five, six-and took a long sip of water to swallow, feeling as if he'd choke. He shook off a light and sudden chill as he noticed a red light flashing out of the corner of his eye.

The answering machine was blinking, then. He pressed one of the buttons and listened.

"Hi, Harry. It's Liam. I scheduled then appointment for you at one. I'll come pick you up and watch Ave. See you later."

Avery? 

As if on cue, his daughter began to wail from her room. 

"You're kidding me." 

He rushed upstairs, skipping the last step and glided into the nursery. Unlike the last time he checked it, the cot was occupied with his baby, and his heart was pounding. 

What exactly was going on?

"Sh, sh, sh…" He kissed Avery's head. "You don't have to cry. Daddy's here, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

That was the first promise that he ever made to his daughter when he held her for the first time. He looked in awe down at her sleeping face, grabbed the smallest hand he had ever seen, and kissed it. He then promised to always look after her, and to never leave her. He promised to always put her and Louis first. Not once did he do otherwise. And he still planned in some way, to keep that promise. For both of them.

He hitched Avery up on his shoulder and moved slowly back and forth. 

"Need to be changed, don't you," he examined, gazing softly down at her wet eyes. 

Harry carried her over to the changing table, cleaning and dressing her quickly. Avery was fidgety the entire time which only made the process longer and harder than necessary as she kicked her feet around. 

"There's a happy girl!" He picked her back up. "Let's get you some breakfast, yeah?"

He sat on the sofa feeding her from the bottle, gazing at the clock every so often. Liam said he'd scheduled the appointment at one, so he had just over an hour until Liam got there. And Liam was relentless and would stop at nothing to get Harry the help he needed. Even if Harry fought him he'd be forced to go. There was really no point in rebelling, even if he screamed. 

The door finally swung open at a quarter after noon with a bag in Liam's hands and a small smile on his face. 

He greeted Harry with a breathless hello before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving Harry completely confused. His questions were answered five minutes later when Liam came out with two heaping plates of sesame chicken and broccoli and rice. 

"I brought food. Assumed that you didn't really eat anything."

"Nope." Harry set Avery on the blanket on the floor, letting her kick about with the toys that dangled over on the plastic bar. 

They sat in silence, Harry chewing slowly as the only sounds in the room were Avery's coos and the clanking of forks and knives against the porcelain. 

"Good?"

Harry nodded. "Mh."

"Want more?"

"I"m good."

"Did you take your meds this morning-"

"Yes, Liam. I took my medications this morning!"

He took a long breath with his eyes closed in attempt to get the tightness out of his chest. 

"Sorry," Liam muttered after a long minute. 

He shook it off. "It's fine. Just…stop questioning me. I'm going to be in a little over an hour, aren't I?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, 'm sorry, I'll stop."

Harry frowned at him. "Don't take it harshly. It's ok, really."

After another ten minutes, Harry let Liam bundle Avery up in her coat as he changed into appropriate attire for the appointment. He wondered if there really was an appropriate attire for going to a therapist for the first time.

"Let's go."

Liam was standing by the door with Avery in the carrier. 

"Are you sure you're gonna come, Li? You don't have to."

"Harry, you have no idea where to go, that's A, and B, I'd rather be there than here waiting and getting all anxious."

"You're basically telling me that you'd rather be there so I don't have some sort of emotional breakdown."

Liam's face fell as he looked down at the floor. "W-well…no."

"You don't have to lie," he grunted and walked past Liam and out to the car, slamming the door in the passenger seat.

They drove wordlessly, Harry with his head pressed up against the window as he watched the scenery fly by. He was still anxious with driving even three weeks later, but he kept that to himself, assuming that everyone else would be able to work that little bit out. Harry began to get increasingly nervous with every mile ticked off on the meter, every minute that flew by. How could anyone work up the nerve to talk to some random stranger and spill their every thought? And how could he even trust this person? Harry knew that confidentiality was Rule No.1 in the field of Therapy and whatnot, but how could anyone be one hundred percent sure?

Before he knew it, Liam pulled into the car park and shut the engine with a sudden twist of the key. 

"C'mon. Before you're late."

Harry sat with a clipboard for ten minutes checking through insurance policies and his date of birth and whatnot before someone finally came out, a woman who looked like she was in her early forties, about ten minutes after that. 

"Harry Styles."

He kissed Avery's head and walked towards the hall where the woman stood.

"Harry? Nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Walker."

"Hi," he sighed, shaking her extend hand.

"Was that your daughter?" she quizzed.

"Yeah."

"And your…partner?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh." She nodded. "Sorry, for asking."

"'S fine. That's Liam. He called to make the appointment for me."

"Oh! Right, I remember now. Just through this door."

Harry walked in and sighed, sitting on the small two-seater across from the cushioned chair where Dr. Walker sat. She took out a notepad and scribbled something down before looking up at Harry.

"So…how are you?"

He shrugged.

"You're here for a reason. And whenever you're ready we can start."

A nod. The pause was dreadfully long before, "Liam's not my partner."

"You've said."

Harry swallowed and blinked tearfully up at the ceiling. "Uh, m-my partner is dead. He-he died a few weeks ago…"

Dr. Walker took a deep breath and nodded. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you," he breathed inaudibly. 

"I think, believe it or not, that it's a good place to start. That is-if you don't mind." 

Harry sighed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh…sure."

"Would you like to tell me what happened? Liam explained something about an accident…?"

Liam talked about the accident. Of course he did. 

"We, uh-m, we were driving home and the roads weren't icy or anything, but it was a bit cold. They're not completely sure what happened, but they think it was something with the breaks or something. I can barely remember it. I was driving, so after everything happened, I blamed myself."

"That's completely normal, Harry." 

His lips pursed into a thin line. "And my daughter was in the back seat, and thank God she wasn't hurt as bad as she could have been…But Louis died, and I wish it was me. I didn't want to know if it was in surgery or from the impact against the window." How was he able to talk without a buildup? His throat was tightening.

"And…how old was Louis?"

"Twenty-four."

"And you are?"

"Twenty-two."

"Did you know each other a long time?"

"We grew up together," he responded, his mouth twitching into the smallest smile. Nostalgia was coming on strong. "When I met him, I was ten."

"And how long have you been together?" She gestured her hand around a bit. 

"Seven years, believe it or not. And we got married two years ago."

"Young?"

"Yeah…but we just knew."

"I understand. She looked pretty young, you daughter, how old is…?"

"Avery. She's about five months."

After another twenty-five minutes of the two exchanging words back and forth, their session was coming to an end. Dr. Walker had basically filled an entire yellow page of the notepad, and about half of another before she looked up at Harry one final time.

"Unless that's all, is there anything else that you'd like to talk about?"

Of course there was, Harry had a million questions on his mind, but he sure as hell didn't have one more prominent than the past two, extraordinarily confusing days.

"Just one last thing. If you don't mind."

"Not at all," she encouraged. "Go on."

"Firstly…what day is it?" he started shakily.

"Tuesday."

"Tuesday…Alright." He took a breath. "I went to sleep Sunday after putting my daughter to bed. She was crying. And then I fell asleep." He began to fidget with his hands, picking at his cuticles and examining a hangnail. "When I woke up yesterday, Monday...well I don't get it."

"What do you mean?"

"Louis was next to me."

"Your husband?" He nodded. "Well…maybe you were the midst of a dream. Maybe you were seeing him in spirit-"

"No-he was there. Like actually there. I turned over and bumped into him. And he said that Avery was dead. But if it was a dream…then today would be Monday, not Tuesday."

The room went quiet as Dr. Walker examined Harry for a few minutes. "I believe, that, maybe in a sense you're living a double reality…This sort of thing is unbelievably rare, and will confuse the person going through it. They'll believe that there's another life they're living and usually happens to those who have been through something traumatic. For you: the accident. They'll go through an entire day not remembering what they had actually done, yet they'd only remember this...alternate reality."

Surely, that couldn't be it. And he refused to believe that being so. There had to be another reason. Something unexplainable and that no one could figure out. Whatever Walker was explaining now was certainly less likely than whatever was actually happening to him now.

"How often does this happen?"

"May happen a few times. Any more than three, then we would probably get concerned."

Harry didn't believe a word she was saying. Everything was too real, and he would have known if something wasn't. 

"In conclusion…all things aside, it's a dream. Or, rather, dream-like."

They concluded on that, Harry leaving slightly shaken up with what she said.

He walked back out to Liam after scheduling another appointment for Saturday. In the waiting room, Liam had Avery on his chest asleep as he scrolled around through his phone. He looked up as soon as Harry was two feet away from him.

"How did it go?"

"Alright."

Liam nodded and placed the baby back into her carry cot. "Wanna grab a coffee?"

Harry merely shrugged and held Avery as they walked out of the building and down towards the car.

"So what did you talk about," Liam questioned. He dipped a piece of cookie into his coffee, Harry stirring his cappuccino about and staring blankly at it as he rubbed Avery's socked foot.

"The accident, mainly," he offered. "Stuff I had some confusion about."

"Like-"

"Look. Li. I don't really wanna talk about it. I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. I understand completely." He sipped through his coffee silently, peering over at Avery. "She was calm while you were inside," Liam added.

"I could tell by the way she was conked out when I walked back in. She's still dozing, now too." 

Liam nodded slowly. "Have you talked to Jay?"

Harry stopped all current actions. "A few days ago. You?"

"Last night. She left a message to see how I was, so."

"Oh…What about Zayn and Niall? Have you talked to them?"

"Zayn's visiting his parents for a few weeks, and Niall's back home," he answered, eyeing the sugar and debating on adding more to his coffee.

"How are they?"

"Worried about you-"

"Aren't you all..."

"Harry, we worry because we love you and we want to make sure you and Avery are okay. I know it's going to be a while before that fully happens. It might never fully happen, but with every decision you make, you have each and every last one of us right behind you, got it? No matter how far we have to travel to get there."

Harry smiled genuinely-small, but true-for the first time in a few weeks, offering it to his friend. "Thank you."

Liam smiled in return and rubbed his shoulder. 

Harry spent the rest of the day snuggling with Avery on the couch and flicking through the telly to find even something the slightest bit interesting. 

 

*

Wednesday

Harry's first and only reaction to waking up with Louis the next morning should be shock. However, there was a small voice in the back of his mind that made him semi unfazed by that. Louis wakes up about an hour after Harry steps out of the shower and greets him with a small smile, which he tries to return genuinely. It's an attempt, he's getting there.

Louis whipped up a casual breakfast that's probably more than Harry had eaten in a long while. Surprisingly enough he was well-satisfied and finished his entire plate which Louis was a little smug about. 

"I'm not shit after all, now aren't I?"

Harry responded with, "You're not shit." 

"Neither are you," Louis smiled.

"What's brought that up?"

"Your eyes. You were thinking that you were."

Harry was about to protest, however he interrupted.

"I've known you for a very, very long time. I can tell when you're thinking something or you're embarrassed or scared."

"We-well stop." He shook his head. "It's annoying."

"Ok." With that, he turned back to eating and began to flip through the paper.

Harry sat there in a thick silence as he stared down at his plate. He felt selfish for eating so quickly or at all really. What was he even thinking? He was just being ridiculous, wasn't he? Why should he feel selfish for eating? Because there were people starving? Sure. But maybe he just put the ultimate blame on that when really deep down he felt horrible for getting irritated with Louis. He was only trying to make him smile.

Harry didn't convince himself that he wasn't going to smile for a long time. Not at all.

"I scheduled an appointment for us today."

He looked up, eyes comically wide as he looked over Louis' expression. It was blank yet telling. "What?"

"Therapy. I had an appointment made for us at half eleven."

"It's already ten," he announced after throwing a quick glance at the clock.

"Best start to get ready, then. Twenty, twenty-five minute drive."

"Yeah." 

Harry dumped his plate in the sink and tried his best not to cringe at the loud clang it made against the steel side. Another session with another therapist in this world, or whatever this was, and Harry was already done. Something in the back of his mind made him think that whoever they were going to see wasn't going to be as understanding and more demanding and annoying, if possible. And Louis said us, did't he? So did that mean that they would go in together? 

That made Harry's posture improve slightly from a slouch to a shoulders-back kind of look. He finished tying his boot and trudged downstairs.

*

"Isn't this the way to Dr. Klein's office?"

Harry's head was resting against the cold glass of the window as they drove, his eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the trees that whizzed by.

"Yeah. Klein recommended someone in the building. Russell. Gregor Russell, or something. Not sure."

"Oh…"

"Might be a different level; three or four, I dunno."

Harry nodded and set his attention back on the little game of track-the-tree and tapping his thigh. He sat up straighter as they neared the tall, boxy building, and it would be unsurprising if his face was a dull sickly green. His breathing became shaky and he hand to lean against the car and close his eyes for a few seconds once parked in order to regain his composure. 

"You feeling alright?"

Harry turned slowly. "Yeah." He began walking quickly. "C'mon." 

They were in the office-a small white room with a large glossy dark-wood desk and piercingly bright florescent lights-about ten minutes later. Harry was leaning entirely towards the right arm of the uncomfortable chair, facing the wall as Louis picked at a thumbnail. It wasn't until a few minutes of sitting in pure, ear-ringing silence that they both jumped when someone spoke up. 

"Louis and Harry Styles, if I'm correct."

A man with thinning dark hair made his way swiftly over to the chair behind the desk as Harry fidgeted with his sleeves and turned towards him. 

"You are," Louis declared, nodding once. 

So this was Dr. Russell? He seemed rather unfriendly-looking and uptight. Almost, if at all, as if he was irritated and had opinions whose contexts were as long as Pride and Prejudice. 

"So," he grunted. "Klein recommended me, I assume? He does that a lot, quite honestly it's slightly annoying. Always annoying; getting new patients who don't speak for session after session." His smile was almost too fake as he nodded towards Harry. "Seems like you're a little nervous."

How, he wondered, was this man employed?

"I don't think that's the matter at hand here," Louis interrupted. "We came to talk about recent events."

"Ah, I see." Russell took out a pad of blank white paper. "Go on."

Harry wasn't one to judge, but he already liked Walker better.

Louis went on to-shakily-explain the accident, looking down at his lap when he brought up their daughter. Harry had blinked and diverted his gaze towards the pale walls. His husband continued as he sat there silently, head spinning. He really felt sick. Maybe from eating too quickly or more than recently. Then again, the man's presence was equally as sickening. 

"So your daughter died, you were both injured, and he's," Russell gestured to Harry, "has become a nervous wreck?"

"Excuse me-"

"No, Louis it's fine." Harry swallowed hard and pretended to not be offended. "Yes."

"Alright then. What do you have to say? You've been quiet the entire session. I'd like to hear from you."

He eyed Louis quickly, took a deep breath and spoke. "I went to bed last night with my daughter in the room next to mine, and woke up to her gone and Louis next to me."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"It happens every night; I'll go to bed with one, and wake up with the other. Like, one's dead, the other's alive, and then it changes to that she's alive and he's dead and-" He stopped and looked at Louis, whose lips were titled downwards ever so slightly, brows scrunched together. "Today I'm with Louis, and tomorrow he'll be dead, in that alternate world or whatever it is, and I'll be with our daughter."

"Well it sounds like hallucinations," he concluded without any form of hesitation.

"Hallucin-what makes you think that? I skip an entire day! I'm not dreaming!"

"Not much else to have as an explanation. So…the accident knocked you around a bit more than you thought."

He shook his head. "That's not true! I go through a full day with my husband, and then a full day with our daughter, and then back again."

There was a long silence. "Who would you rather be with?"

"What?" 

"It's a simple question: Louis or your daughter."

"That's not something anyone can answer! I love them both and this would be much less confusing if I could have both of them!"

He stood up, jacket folded over his arm.

"I-I need to go."

He pulled the door open just as he heard Louis say "We'll be in touch" and raced down the hall to the lifts. He began rapidly pushing the button, looking at the lit dial above the doors. 

"C'mon…"

The bell dinged and the doors to the left elevator opened and he rushed in, Louis slipping through the doors just as they closed. 

"Are you alright?"

Harry nodded with closed eyes and pursed lips. He was really beginning to feel sick. His head was pounding and his stomach was flipping. There was a gentle stop and the doors slid open on the ground floor again, allowing Harry to rush out towards the car. He just made it as he stumbled and lurched forward, getting sick by the tires. A hand gripped the wing mirror while Louis rushed over and rubbed his back. 

"Oh, God…I'm sorry, H…Are you aright?"

He wiped his mouth and nodded. "Mh…I will be." He stood shakily and leaned against the hood of the truck, breathing heavy.

"Here." Harry peered up through folded arms. "Water. Sip, don't gulp."

He unscrewed the cap and stood there for five minutes taking deep breaths. "Thanks."

Louis smiled and rubbed his back. "I'm here. You know that." He made move to kiss Harry's temple, but he turned away at the last minute, leaving Louis to watch with slight sadness.

"I'm feeling better…let's go before I have another episode," he muttered. 

Louis sighed. "Yeah."

The drive home was the same way as the drive to the appointment, except they had to pull over once for Harry to be sick again. His ears were ringing by the time they reached the house, which allowed Harry to conclude that he was going to crawl right back into bed for the rest of the day.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Louis crouched down next to Harry, becoming eye-level.

"'M alright. I just need to nap or something."

"Ok…" He stood back up, stopping again just before walking out the door. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not…you won't go to the other-er, world, when you fall asleep now, right?"

Would he? "I dunno."

"Right. If you do…I'll see you Friday. Or, maybe you'll see me."

"Yeah." He turned back over, beginning to count silently.

Harry woke up around four later that afternoon to the telly on down in the lounge. He managed to catch "Donny Rovers" and "goal" before he knew that Louis was definitely downstairs and he was with him. 

Good, he thought. He could actually take naps without waking up in a lost trance and confusion.

*

Thursday

When Harry woke up Thursday morning, he hopped in the shower and stood there for just around forty minutes under the hot, artificial rain. It burned his skin and made him feel raw, but overall pure, relaxed, and calm. He dried his hair, shaved and dressed nicely. He managed to get his coat out of the back of the closet as well as a small travel bag before he heard the cooing coming from Avery's room. She was babbling to herself with her legs tossed in the air when Harry first walked in, and she screeched a little the minute he was hovering over the crib.

"Good morning," he whispered. He lifted her gently letting the smallest possible smile overtake his lips. "What do you say? Wanna visit Nana today?"

Avery's only reponse-if it even was a response-was pushing her head into Harry's shirt. 

"I'm gonna take that as a yes. So please don't protest."

He wound up taking around fifteen minutes to change her because of the baby's constant squirming. She managed to knock over the powder and a stack of nappies on the corner of the changing table and started crying as Harry pulled socks onto her feet. 

"Nearly finished," he whispered. He tugged gently at the shirt he was to put on her, whispering nonsense as she whined. When he finished, Harry let out a long-lasting sigh.

"Done," he announced. "You have to look nice for Nana. Don't you want to?"

Avery's eyes were watery by now as she fisted Harry's jumper. He often found it amusing how cuddly she got after a cry, or when she was tired. She almost never wanted be put down, and whoever was holding her would wind up doing so for at least an hour before Avery tired herself out or allowed you to put her in her cot without making a huge fuss. 

"Come on." Harry started walking downstairs. "We've got a bit of a drive."

*

"…and you keep seeing him?"

Harry managed to dodge heavy traffic by some godsend miracle and made it to his childhood home at twelve noon. He was greeted with a tight hug from Anne, a cup of freshly-made tea and an "I had no idea you were coming, love!" As he'd done several times in visits before that, Harry explained that he didn't have to tell her every last time he was coming to pay a visit. As soon as that was said, his mother scooped Avery out of the carrier and immediately focused all of her attention on her. 

Robin rushed in breathless a half an hour after Harry had arrived, dripping wet and shaking off an umbrella. His glasses were speckled with rain, as well.

"Bloody storming out there," he'd called as soon as the door closed. "I don't see it stopping any time soon. Who's car is out front?"

Harry stepped out of the kitchen with a tiny smile etched on his lips. Robin's face lit up at the sight of his step-son, hugging him tightly. If you asked him, Harry would say that he was overly happy with the fact that he and Robin were as close as they were, he and Anne having been together since he and his sister were young. 

"How are you, H?" He rubbed his shoulder as they headed back towards the kitchen. 

His lips pursed. "I'm doing alright…I want to be doing better, but…"

Anne looked up. "Wanna talk?"

"May as well, yeah." He hesitated a moment, but jumped nervously into the story.

He started off with the constant dreams of the accident, then went on to therapy sessions before trying to, in the most casual way possible, explain the fact that he somehow still had a life with Louis. 

"…and you keep seeing him?" Anne's eyes were huge. 

Harry's response was a slow nod.

"But you don't when you're with Avery…?"

"No." His head fell into his hands. "I don't even understand what's going on, you know? It's exhausting to think about, let alone try and dissect."

"Have you discussed this with anyone else?" Robin was now leaning a little closer to him against folded arms. "It seems pretty…well, I'm not sure extreme fits."

"A therapist," he responded with a shrug. "Both theories were really confusing, I just don't want to talk about it."

Silent beat. "How are you besides all of this, Harry?"

"Confused? Sad, honestly, I miss him like crazy, but what are you supposed to expect from something drastic like this? No one can get better in a simple few days or weeks. It could take years if anything, otherwise you're never gonna heal from it." 

"Those are some very strong words," Robin complimented. "Has that been on your mind?"

"No." He shook his head. "Doesn't have to be, but it's something that's easy to figure out I guess."

After a long minute of silence and no attempts at responses, Harry looked down and began to stir his tea absent-mindedly. The dark, amber-colored liquid swirled smoothly in the mug as he tried his best to not hit the sides of the porcelain with the spoon. 

It was sort of hypnotizing, calming almost the way he followed the soft buildup of foam at the very top layer of his drink. Spinning, spinning, quickly and then slowly as he switched and went counterclockwise. He felt empowered, like he controlled the tides of the world and all the oceans. But instead it was this little tide, in this small world that was built inside a tan mug and long-lost, long-forgotten imagination. The terrain, a sugarcoated layer that dissolved at the bottom of the tea. Harry felt free for a few minutes; free of the ever-lasting spell of sorrow and grief that he was put under. The unnerving thought of tomorrow, and the terrifying reminder of the accident, flashing back. 

This little tea stirring moment made him feel free. Calm and free.

"How about," Anne started. "I put Avery down for a nap, and then the three of us rent a movie? Sound alright with the two of you?"

Harry nodded, taking a long sip of his tea as he turned and headed towards the lounge. He toed off his shoes and cautiously curled into the recliner, setting his tea down on the table next to it. It didn't take long, only about half an hour into the movie, before Harry conked out with light snores drifting from where he lay. 

He woke with a soft blanket tucked around him, the telly off as well as the lights with the exception of one in the corner. Harry's a little startled at first because looking around, he's the only one in the room. He sat up lazily, hair flopping in his eyes, and yawned.

"Mum?"

He decided to wait in silence for a few minutes in order to catch something; someone walking, a shift of a chair, maybe running water from the en suite bathroom. But nothing. 

And outside the sun was just formally beginning to set, shining over the damp streets just like the end of a spring shower. Harry looked tiredly around the room and noticed that both Robin's and his mum's coats were gone off the hangers by the door, but both cars were still in the driveway. He knew that they went for walks often, so maybe that was it. 

His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the small note paper with a neat cursive next to his now cold tea.

Went for a walk, took Ave in the pram  
Should be back soon, call if you need

x Mum

That both relaxed him and saved him the trouble of panicking when he went up to check on his daughter and find her missing. He curled back into the recliner and laid there for a while longer.

They came back around twenty minutes later, Robin whispering that Avery was asleep. Harry sat up to take her from the pram, unbuttoning her coat and wrapping her in the blanket with him. Anne said something about going to make dinner, but Harry was too engrossed in the sleeping baby. Her lips were parted just slightly, legs bent and her nose was squished slightly against Harry's chest. His hand was completely covering her back. He looked at her with a soft, fond expression.

He felt relaxed.

*

"Are you gonna stay over?"

Dinner was a spread of spaghetti and chicken, a salad in the centre and about four different sides. Anne had a habit of cooking a feast when people visited, and then would sent them home with the extras. Harry had barely touched the spinach, not wanting to think of Louis. Believe it or not, no matter how odd it might be for him, Louis would pile mounds and mounds of the leafy greens onto his plate saying "Anne is the only person that can cook this perfectly" while Harry glared and stuck his tongue out. 

"No," he muttered through a swallow. "I didn't bring anything and I'd just rather get home. Reason why I didn't have any wine." 

The real reason was that he had no idea if he'd wake up at home or here with the way his life was going, so he didn't want to chance it. 

"Are you sure?" Anne looked up from cutting a piece of chicken. "It's getting late."

"I shouldn't hit traffic. I'll take coffee or something if it makes you feel better."

She nodded, dropping the subject.

The family finished eating, Harry insisting that he wanted to help wash the dishes, and they had a quick round of coffee before he embarked on the car ride home. No traffic, soft music, and a sleeping baby in the back as Harry kept himself calm.

*  
Friday

To say the least, Harry was unsurpassed when he saw Louis getting dressed the next morning. Despite everything, and the fact that he hadn't looked at his husband properly for a long time, he watched the muscles in Louis' back as they moved and rippled. He was one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen, and absolutely adored him. But the layer of shock was still hovered around him and only made their relationship rocky. 

He sat up. "Morning."

Louis snapped his head around. "Hi," he grinned. "Sleep alright, darling?"

He ignored the nickname and nodded. "Getting dressed?"

"Yeah." He closed the drawer and turned fully towards him. "I was thinking about going out to breakfast."

Harry really didn't want to, he didn't want to see anyone that he knew who would give them both sympathy on their daughter. But he lied. "Sure."

Louis' smile grew ever so slightly. "Get dressed. We'll leave whenever you're done." 

He wound up taking fifteen minutes total to get dressed and wash up until he was fully ready to go. Louis wound up driving to a small brunch-like restaurant in the middle of their local village that they would go to all the time before Avery was born. They'd even received the call that their surrogate was in labor when they were eating an early lunch. 

It was around 11:15 on a Sunday early in November. They were sitting outside with the sun blaring in Harry's eyes like it always did because he took the bad seat to comfort Louis, kind of like it was currently. Louis was mid-chew, mid-story when his phone began to ring from his pocket, and as soon as whatever their surrogate had said to him had spoke and confirmed that she was on her way to the hospital, Louis jumped up, plopped a fifty on the table and grabbed Harry's arm, trying to force him to run to the car. Despite the excitement from his husband and his own, Harry managed to slow Louis down, get the check and pay the right amount on the bill, and then go into a panicking rush and follow him to the car. 

The ride there was nerve-wracking and exciting as Harry smiled big and stupid, head resting against the window as he began to contemplate the fact that in mere hours he was going to be a father. And it shocked him more than anything before that it was all happening so quickly. And he understood why they say that it made new parents crazy that the birth of their child took so long, but Harry thought that it went almost too quick. He told Louis he felt unprepared, and yet they were perfectly fine the minute she was placed in Louis' arms. 

Yet here they were now at the same restaurant, sitting at the same table and in the exact same seats. Louis ordered eggs Benedict for a change while Harry stuck to his usual scramble with green peppers and rye toast. He watched as Louis picked apart his toast and mixed it in with his eggs. He sipped his tea in silky gulps and Harry just sat still. His food which once seemed appetizing was now slightly repulsive at the constant thought of Avery and how this place had so much sentimental value. 

"Are you going to eat?"

Harry looked up at Louis with widening eyes as he was pulled from his thoughts. 

"Huh?"

"Are you going to eat," Louis repeated with a subtle gesture. "You've barely touched your food, and you look a little lost…"

He picked up his fork. "Yeah, I'm eating. See?" He scooped a mound of egg and peppers into his mouth and gave Louis a half-smile. "'S good."

His shoulders slumped. "H…talk to me, babe. Please."

Babe. 

Harry's heart clenched. Nicknames like babe or love or his personal favorite, darling (not at all because he loved the way Louis pronounced it), seemed a little distant and odd. He didn't even like calling Louis 'Lou' anymore because he didn't feel as close to him as he used to be. Of course that was a little bit of a lie, because despite everything Harry didn't feel like he was falling out of love or anything story-book like that. He loved Louis more than anything and was sure that nothing could easily change that. Harry was just convinced that he had to find why he loved Louis so much again. 

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm not incredibly hungry, but I'm eating." That was full truth. Not one syllable was a lie.

"But you look like you have something on your mind."

"Oh, nothing at all," he declared sarcastically. "I mean, only the fact that our daughter's dead, but you know that's not a big deal, right?"

"Harry-"

"Louis, stop. I just-I'm not going to talk about it, and whatever the hell his going on right now with…" He tapped his temple. "Just drop it."

And he did, and the two ate in uninterrupted silence for the rest of their meal. Harry choked down as much food as he could handle without dropping his fork and leaning his chin into his hand. He would meet eyes with Louis every now and again but never said a word, or smiled or anything. He just sat and wished for the world to be quite and serene, and calm. He knew that would never happen, though. The world that they lived in was a much too hectic place. Especially for Harry with whatever high power was controlling his life at the current moment. 

"Why did you choose to come here Louis?"

Louis' chewing slowed as he looked up. "What?"

"Why did you choose to come to Mulligan's for breakfast, Lou?"

"Because it's our restaurant," he explained, as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. "And so many things have happened here. Harry, we've been coming for years now! What's so bad about another meal here?"

"I dunno, but like you've said a lot of things had happened here." He started to fidget with his discarded fork. "We found out we were going to be parents here, we found out that your brother was getting married when we were here, we found out that Avery was almost here when we were in the middle of eating!" He paused. "And believe it or not, I was going to propose to you here." 

Louis went to speak but Harry interrupted. "It felt like the thing to do, but instead I proposed at the field back in Holmes Chapel because we'd spend at least a day there every time we visited!"

"And your point?"

"My point is that we've been here so much and we've had so much happen that it's almost…paining." 

"What do you mean by that?" His eyes grew wide. 

"I don't know," Harry boomed. "To tell you the honest truth, I'm surprised that the night of the accident we didn't crash into the restaurant itself!"

The row of tables and passersby on the sidewalk had gone completely quiet and turned their attention towards them. Harry's heart was pounding roughly in his chest, face redder than ever before with embarrassment, his eyes were stinging from threatening tears. Louis eyes were wide and glazed over as he gazed up at Harry with a faint-trembling lip. 

"I-…" He breathed in deeply, stood, and rushed from the table without another word. 

He unlocked the car and slumped into the passengers seat with his index finger and thumb pinching over the bridge of his nose. His shoulders shook as he began to sob, the tears soaking his hand by his eyes. Ten minutes it took for Harry to regain his composure and breathe properly again. From the wing mirror, he saw how red and puffy his eyes got, and how tired he looked. His face went to an eerie pale sort of color and his eyes turned a deep, dark green, almost honey brown in color. Not to mention that inwardly both his head and heart hurt, and it was unexplainably confusing with how his heart was aching. 

Yet again, it wasn't impossible.

A soft rapping on the window where his head rested made him jump well out of his seat. He immediately recognized Louis and unlocked the car. Louis gave him a sheepish smile and opened Harry's door, lifting up a plastic bag.

"Packed your food," he spoke. "Thought you might, ah…want it."

Harry nodded in response and blinked several times, averting his gaze to the dashboard.

"Hey…are you alright, H?"

"Mh-I…" His breath scattered as he pinched his eyes again. He fell into Louis' shoulder and shook, swallowing thickly. 

"Oh…Harry." He kissed Harry's temple and for once, he didn't move. Louis' arms wrapped tight around him and swayed him gently. 

"Can-can we go home…?" He coughed. "Please."

"Yeah, of course."

The rest of the day consisted of the pair curled up with a good foot of space between them and sharing a blanket. Harry's head was aching for the rest of the day as the rest of him was snug and warm in sweats and a tee. Louis would glance over at him every few minutes as a mindless show played out on the telly. 

Harry found himself half asleep a couple hours later, eyes opening and closing slowly. Louis shifted and he looked up at him.

"Lou?" His voice was juvenile and childlike.

"Yeah?"

"You know that I love you, right?"

Louis nodded. "I know. I love you, too. And I will never stop, because you are just incredible. And perfect."

"Ok," he whispered. He ignored the rest of Louis' statement and continued. "I'm sorry about today. I'm still trying to get over it and-"

"It's not something we can get over easy. Not to mention that we loved Avery so much." He kissed Harry's head, Harry not moving away.

"I know."

"I love you so much, never, ever forget that."

Harry smiled the smallest amount, whispering, "promise" and rested his head gently against his husband's shoulder, unbending his knees and stretching out his legs.

*

Saturday

For the first time since this whole ordeal began, Harry had a dream. It was more of a flashback really, considering that it was a play-by-play of their honeymoon.

Harry and Louis got married around two years ago in late October. Louis thought that it was the perfect time to be married; the weather was just getting it's annual bitter chill, he loved to see Harry's nose and cheeks cherry red from the wind, with a beanie on and his hair tucked in it, and his green eyes a little teary when they walked. It was just another one of those unexplainable things that he loved about winter with Harry, and Harry in general. Despite the fact that he wanted to wait until it was a bit warmer or maybe not as chilly, he agreed to having their wedding then, because he would simply do anything for Louis. 

Their wedding was simple in a small church with a quaint reception at a local hotel ballroom, with a hired band and caterers and the honeymoon suite booked upstairs on the top floor overlooking the city that Harry couldn't wait to get into. They danced awkwardly and pretended that no one was watching, Louis tucked some daisies behind Harry's ear that he had insisted on having as the centerpieces with a few scatterings of lavender. 

The engagement was a little odd considering. Harry proposed in a field in Holmes Chapel when they went to visit his parents. Louis had cried, and Harry had cried, and Louis had kissed him, and Harry had asked if he would be willing to stand at the alter because he knew how badly Louis had wanted to see him walk down the aisle. So, though the proposer was the one who usually in the groom's position, Harry was in the bride's. And in his words, Louis couldn't have asked for a better way to be married.

Louis' surprise to him was a honeymoon in the countryside of Scotland, where they resided in an old castle-turned-hotel. The room was furnished elegantly and reminded Harry slightly of the styling of the dormitories at Hogwarts. A four-post kingsize with deep red duvets and accents throughout the room. A circle carpet and an old dark wood dresser, wood paneling stained dark. And a balcony overlooking a large, green, rolling field of acres and acres of land.

Of course when they finally arrived there, Harry practically stripped Louis of his clothing, lowered the curtains that hung on the posts and slowly laid Louis down against the pillows. Their time was relaxed, carefree and full of love and touring. They took something around two walks through the village each day and always went out for a meal or down to the restaurant they had on the main level. 

Harry had practically dragged his husband out to the large cliffs where the water continued crashing. It was windy, a little misty, and the salty air and cloudy skies made everything oddly perfect. They lay there the entire day just talking about their future together, Louis twisting the ring around on his finger. 

He eventually got up at around seven and dressed, fed Avery, and headed out once Liam got there to watch her at around nine-thirty. He managed to make his appointment with Dr. Walker.

*

"So overall, how have you been, Harry? Are you sleeping well?"

"Yeah. I'd assume so."

Walker nodded and recrossed her legs. "And how are the…realities? Still going on?"

"Yeah," he breathed. "They are, but I've come to terms with the fact that this isn't gonna end anytime soon." Harry paused and rolled up the sleeves of his jumper. They immediately began to fall again from being so loose. "I don't want to have to go to some psychiatrist or something because this sort of thing is abnormal."

"I don't think it would be smart if you did. Personally, unless you start hallucinating and seeing…dinosaurs or something impossible like that, then I'd have you see someone of higher knowledge. But you're a perfectly normal, perfectly healthy young man, Harry. There's nothing to be even the slightest bit worried about."

Harry nodded slowly and stared at the legs of the side table in the corner of the room, trailing over how the light cast a glossy gleam against the polished wood. 

"Now…has there been anything else that's happened that you wanted to talk about? Anything new?"

"Not unless talking about a dream is major."

She smiled. "Go on," Walker prompted.

"I just dreamt, vividly, about mine and Louis' honeymoon. Like, every detail, and I woke up feeling little…empty."

"That's normal. I don't analyze dreams for a living, however I can say that flashbacks can easily come back in the form of dreams, and there is nothing abnormal about that. As for the emptiness…same thing. You obviously miss Louis dearly, so being with him for those few moments got your hopes up, and when you realized that he wasn't there, you felt as if you've lost something."

"Which I have," he agreed. "I lost someone."

Dr. Walker gave Harry a sympathetic smile. "I know. But I can promise you that you will meet again one day. If you love him that much, you'll find him."

It wasn't until Harry got home and Liam had left that he suddenly felt alone. It was weird, because he knew he wasn't; Avery was just up the stairs sleeping in her room. But he felt a little more alone than he was when he was younger and found himself in a bad mood. This was more of an eerie feeling. 

Something within him had Harry wondering aimlessly around the house looking at pictures of he and Louis, family photos, solo photos of Louis that Harry would capture in a random moment, or Louis and Avery snuggling. It hit him hardest when he came across the picture of Louis holding their daughter for the first time. His hair was a mess, sticking out every which way, he had prominent bags under his eyes from the restless sleep he was getting on the hospital chairs, and his button-up was wonky and hanging off one shoulder. Normally, Harry adored it, but now he felt the same pang of guilt as he had been for days.

He stumbled with blurry, tear-induced vision into the kitchen and dug around the fridge and cupboards until he found a few stray bottles of beer and half-full bottle of Jack Daniels. Within the next hour, he had finished two out of the three beers, one which had spilled over, taken about four gulps of the whiskey and was now seeing double. Or was it triple? After having not had a full, proper drink in over a year and a half where he had gotten piss drunk, he was back to being a bit of a lightweight. 

Harry managed to get over to the couch before conking out with the whiskey bottle miraculously screwed closed and laying on its side on the carpet.

*

The Second Sunday

The emptiness that Harry was feeling the day before carried on into the next morning, like an aftermath. The sun seeped through closed curtains and directly into Harry's eyes, causing him to flip over in discomfort. When his arm splayed out over the opposite side of the bed, he was greeted with a cool sensation and no Louis. Immediately, his eyes bugged open and he launched himself upward.

"L-Louis," he called, voice panic-stricken. "Louis?"

There was no response, and as he stayed quiet, there was no sign of movement either. 

His heart began pounding rapidly and his mind started racing equally as quick, and Harry jumped out of bed, stumbling out of the room. There was no one in the kitchen, or bathroom, or guest room, or the lounge, or out in the back on the porch. There were no lights on, or evidence of someone having been there like an open cupboard or dirty bowl in the sink or something. Harry rushed up into Avery's room, thinking that it could all possibly be over and he would be able to focus on one life without something crazy happening, but she wasn't in her crib. It was still neat with the blankets folded over the bar. 

He was alone.

In panic and confusion, Harry turned and slammed his hand into the wall, a chilling rattle going through his upper arm. His wrist locked and his hand went completely numb as he screamed with pain.

"Harry!"

Louis pulled him back into a hug and allowed him to cry into his shoulder. Harry clutched his hand in a vice grip, teeth clenched as he seethed through them to breathe. His head hurt, he felt cold and sick, and he felt oddly scared. But Louis held him close.

*

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

Louis put a plate of fresh pancakes sided with an assortment of fruit and bacon in front of Harry on the table. 

He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. 

"Harry."

"Nothing! I-…I thought-I couldn't find you!"

"What do you-Harry, I was running to the store. We needed more eggs. I wanted to make breakfast for you..." He hugged him from the side. "I wasn't leaving you!"

"No, I know…I just got nervous, and confused. I couldn't find you, and I couldn't find Avery so I didn't know where I was or what was going on…"

"You didn't know which one you were in," Louis realized. 

"I was so scared," Harry continued, staring down at his food in disgust. He was no longer hungry. "I thought something happened and I-"

"Sh…Calm down for a few minutes. You've had enough on your mind, you don't need something else."

Harry took a long breath in and exhaled even slower as his heart rate was brought back down to what was probably safe and normal. He looked up at Louis who sidled to the right and studied him with careful eyes.

"I'm sorry for ruining your shirt," he sniffed. He wiped his nose childishly on his sleeve and blinked.

Louis huffed a laugh and said, "Nothing that can't be washed. You didn't ruin it."

"But-"

"You didn't ruin it." Louis paused and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Now, are you gonna eat or make me feel bad, because I ran around the kitchen making sure everything was perfect. You deserve a good, well-thought, from-scratch meal."

Harry scooped a piece of the sweet food into his mouth. "It's perfect, Lou. Thank you. But we both know that you didn't grow the fruit or kill the pig."

"Ooh, when you say it that way it makes me want to be strictly vegetarian."

Harry genuinely laughed, and for the first time in a long time.

*

"Lou?"

Their bedroom was dark later that night, and Harry had his head resting on the pillow just inches away from the back of Louis' hair. It made him think about the fact that Louis hadn't gotten a proper, short haircut since he was about twenty-one, twenty-two. Harry had completely lost track. He didn't mind though; he loved him with long hair. It suited him well.

He rolled over and folded his arm over the sheets, one tucked under his head. "You alright?"

"Mh. Just thinking."

"About?" He leaned on his elbow in order to get a better look at Harry, chin in hand. 

"Do you think it would work if I…Like, what if I stayed up the entire night…would it work?"

"Would what work? You staying in this…whatever this is?" He gestured around.

"Yeah."

"I don't think it would. I mean it might, but I know you too well, H. You're gonna get really tired and wind up passing out anyway."

"But what if I tried?"

Louis shrugged. "You can try, but I'm gonna go to sleep. Is that alright?"

"Uh-huh."

And Louis was right, because Harry didn't stay up past ten-fifty.

*

The Second Monday

And so enter the evidence of a hangover.

Harry regretted drinking and discovered why he stopped and matured the minute he gained consciousness the next morning (though the true reason he stopped was because he and Louis were going to be parents, but that's a whole other story). He was a little surprised to even have a hangover or find himself sprawled on the couch, but it just proved that each world stopped for the time he was somewhere else. He fell asleep two legal nights ago on the couch after drinking heavily. And now he woke up in the same position two nights later.

Not to mention, at a quarter to five in the morning.

He trudged into the kitchen with exhaustion and brewed a bitter-tasting cup of coffee and for some reason opted no sugar or milk. He managed to down it and let the mirror fog up in the bathroom before stepping into the scorching water. It burned his skin in a soothing way that made all his muscles relax, and he scrubbed his skin completely red and raw.

It wasn't until he turned off the shower and stepped out dripping wet with his hair in his eyes that Harry heard the crying coming from across the hall.

"Avery?"

She was awake and squirming with a sock hanging off her foot, and Harry's heart went out to her as soon as he picked her up. The poor girl was burning up, uncomfortable and was screaming, if the term was appropriate. His first thought wast "hospital," his second "cold compress". 

The drive was hectic as he steered with literally one arm behind him and the other on the wheel. His vision was blurred with tears as he kept calling back to her. He practically tossed his keys to the valet up front and stormed into the ER.

"I-I need help," he yelled. "My daughter, please!"

"Sir, please calm down," a nurse began. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"She's burning up, please. She's been crying non-stop." Harry's ears were ringing, and he could barely keep his breathing somewhat even.

"I know sir-"

"You don't know-"

"Sir! We'll need you to fill out a few forms but we can get you help. How old is your daughter?"

"She's almost five months."

"Any medical history?"

"A-an accident. A few weeks ago, almost a month. She got the least of it, just a gash on her leg and few scratches…Was in the NICU overnight."

"Alright, if you follow me, we can get you to a room and make sure she has someone take excellent care of her."

"Will she be ok?" Harry's voice was thick and shaky.

The nurse nodded. "I can promise that we'll do everything we can to make sure she's perfectly healthy."

*

Harry was in the A&E for about ten hours and had to deal with two room switches for testing, a too-lengthy wait, and blood work. Eventually, the doctor that was tending to them asked to have Avery stay the night-with reassurance that Harry would stay too-just as the labs concluded that she had a minor ear infection. Harry voiced how he panicked over practically nothing.

"You're a very good father, Mr. Styles. You care a lot about such a wonderful young girl after having been through so much. You haven't turned away from her or shut her out."

He smiled wearily. "I could never neglect her. She's my entire life." 

"Anyone with a heart would be able to tell instantly. And you're doing to right thing, bringing her. We'll keep her on an intravenous for the night, and a nurse will come and check on her every couple of hours. Press the button if you need anything, and I'll have someone bring a cot in the room for you."

Harry thanked him several times before he sat down beside Avery's cot. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, finally focusing on Harry and her eyes slowly started to drift shut. Harry kissed her forehead.

There were no episodes or scares that night. Just a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

*

The Second Tuesday

Louis was curled into Harry's side when he woke up the next morning. His head was tucked oddly under his arm with Louis' ever-growing hair tickling his bicep. It was such a comfortable position to be it, but Harry couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't be laying like that.

Maneuvering himself out of Louis' hold-where he was very comfortable-he rolled off the bed and quickly slipped on a tee and sweats over his boxers. He splashed a few handfuls of cold water onto his face, droplets hitting the collar of his shirt and collecting at his chin. The slight headache that was brewing managed to disappear once Harry turned the light off again and had some coffee running through his system. As stereotypical as it was, Louis would not be able to function without tea, because he turned his nose up at the thought of coffee ("It's too damn bitter and the sugar just makes it worse."). Harry made his husband's tea the cheap way, through the microwave, before grabbing his mug as well. 

Louis was still asleep when Harry set the mugs down on the night table, however turned over on his stomach with his arms splayed above his head, face buried between the pillows. 

"Lou," he whispered. 

He groaned and swatted Harry's hand away from where he was being shaken.

"C'mon…it's already nine. You can't sleep in this much."

"I've slept in later," he grumbled into the bend of his arm. "Much later..."

"Stop being a kid. I have your tea." He pushed him over and sat in his place. "And you know that I'm only gonna keep bugging you."

Louis finally sat up with much reluctance and took the cup from Harry. "Thank you."

"Avery had a high fever," Harry muttered after an extended pause.

"W-what? Is she alright?" Louis' poster straightened as his eyes grew round. "Is she sick?"

"A minor ear infection. I had to bring her to the hospital and she had all these tests done. It was horrific, Louis. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't think straight, I was panicking and I didn't know if I was doing the right thing, bringing her to A&E or if I should have called Mum or the pediatrician…"

"But you did the right thing," Louis reassured, sounding somewhat shaky.

"Yeah…and they had to keep her overnight…I.V. and everything." He sniffed and pursed his lips. "But she's ok…"

A pause. "Right, I can't stay in the house any longer." Louis leapt up from the bed. "I need to get out. Let's get dressed and just…do something today, because it's beautiful out and I need to clear my head." 

Harry watched with amusement as his husband rushed around the room slipping on a pair of jeans and a tee and button down. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to slip on his shoes.

"Are you getting up? I can't be bothered to be cooped up here for another ten minutes."

"Yeah, yeah." Harry stood and cracked his back. "It's entertaining watching you run around like you're late for work or something."

"Well, I-" Louis shot up from the bed as he spoke and immediately fell back down with a cry. "Shit!"

"Your knee! Be careful, Louis. Honestly." He rubbed it in attempt to soothe the pain. "Where's the brace, anyway?"

He gritted his teeth. "On the chair," he gestured. "I have to put it over my pant leg."

Harry helped him strap it on tightly muttering, "Why did you put your damn shoe on before this?"

*

They wound up driving an hour and a half to a large park. It was a fairly cool day, and the field was spacious with families scattered throughout it. A vacant spot under a large tree caught the couple's attention, and Harry made sure Louis was comfortable and that his knee wasn't aching before he thought about sitting down with him. They sat awkwardly so Louis' back was pressed against his chest as Harry played with his hair.

"You seem happier today," Louis mused.

"Do I?"

"Mh-hm. Why?"

"I don't know…Maybe I'm just getting used to everything. Or maybe it's the weather, or being with you…" He blushed. "Probably that; being with you."

Louis tried his best to hide his large grin. "It's good to see you like this because you…well, you deserve to be happy."

His heart fluttered. "You do, too. You're wonderful, Louis. And despite all that happened I know that you know I love you. I'm sorry for everything I've had to put you through, but I couldn't control it."

"I know, I know. Not everything has options, and everything happens for a reason, y'know?"

"Yeah." Harry sniffed. "But it just really sucks."

Louis looked up. "What does?"

"The fact that we can't be parents together anymore. Whatever happened that night messed something up with…I'm not really sure, but whatever happened took away something we both wanted. It's almost like I have to choose between you and Avery…I-I can't do that."

"She needs a father-"

"You're her father. She's your flesh and blood."

"No, Harry. You're her father, too. It's how it's supposed to be." Louis paused. "She needs a father to raise her, and if I can't be there, you can be. And you can give all my love to her, because the two of you are the people that I care about most."

Harry had to blink rapidly in order to hold back the excessive amount of tears that were threatening to fall. His throat felt tight, and he hugged Louis closer to his chest. He buried his nose into Louis' hair and gripped his arms. 

"Don't leave me, ok? I don't want you to leave me."

"Harry. I-I'm not going to. I swear I'm not." He sat up and kissed his cheek. "In fact, from this day on, I am going to put my heart and soul into our relationship."

"You always have."

"I know. But even more so now. I promise that I'm gonna help you get through all of this, if you help me get through all of this. Ok? By that I mean keeping me posted with Avery, like when she starts walking or talking, or if she wants to start a ballet class, or a sport, or when she has her first crush or boyfriend-which will hopefully be years from now."

Harry shook his head and laughed at the cliché parenting statement. 

"For however long this goes on, I am going to be by your side. I promise you."

He gave Louis a watery smile because he knew that everything he was saying was genuine. Pure, and true, and his words were full of love. 

"Thank you." 

Everything felt a little slow after that. Harry's thoughts completely isolated on Louis' lips that were formed in a tiny smile, and he felt that urge to kiss him like he did when he first developed that crush all those years ago. Louis seemed to be reading minds today, because he straightened up and kissed him. It was that heart palpitating feeling Harry got that just made him want more. 

He pressed into Louis a bit more, almost falling forward on top of him and onto the grass. His hands trailed up his side, grazing the hem of his shirt. 

"H, not here, babe. We can't do that here."

Harry stopped. "But, you want to?"

Louis didn't respond, but he averted his gaze shyly and that's all Harry needed to be assured that the two of them were on the same page.

As fast as the speed limit (and Louis) would allow him, Harry drove home and practically stopped short in the driveway. He pushed Louis up against the door almost as soon as it closed, tugging off his button-up and shrugging out of his own. He felt Louis' breath catch when he accidentally grazed his knee, and Harry's immediate reaction was to pick him up.

"Mh-Harry, I'm fine. You can put me down."

"No you're not. Your knee's bothering you, don't lie."

Louis wasn't able to respond as Harry carried him up into the bedroom, keeping their kiss going. 

The brace came off and that was the only thing that was carefully removed and set down. Everything else was thrown. A shirt slumping over the dresser, pants hitting the chair by the window, shoes hitting the wall, and boxers dropping to a heap next to the bed. 

Harry couldn't help but think that this was the beginning to a brand new start; he would be able to live his life with the knowledge that Louis was going to be there right there beside him, and that he had so many people to support him. He felt refreshed and confident, and happy. 

Very, very happy. 

The breathlessness afterward was worth it if Louis was laying next to him. And he was. 

"Are you ok?"

Louis nodded, slicking his hair back with his hand. "Yeah," he panted. "You?"

"I'm great." He smiled. "I'm happy."

Louis kissed his head and rested against his chest. "So am I. So am I…"

He took Harry's left hand and began twirling the band on his ring finger. It glistened in the Sun's light through the curtains. Louis kissed it.

"You're my best friend, Harry. And that's one of the many reasons that I married you. Don't forget that. Ok?"

"Ok." He kissed his head. "I love you so much, Louis. Really. And I'm sorry if I didn't show it enough in the past few days."

"You don't have to be sorry for something that you can't control," Louis explained. "But, I love you, too."

There was a beat of silence before, "Harry?"

"Mh?"

"Could you-…Can you tell Avery I love her?"

Harry blinked back a few tears and nodded. "Yeah. I promise."

"Thank you," Louis sighed before closing his eyes.

Harry was content.

*

The Second Wednesday

It's almost too sunny when Harry woke up the next morning. The curtains were closed, however the Sun was pouring heavily in through the sheer fabric. As much as he wanted to throw a pillow over his face, Harry was awake now and felt good. Really good, almost as if he'd been asleep forever. He didn't yawn when he got up or ten minutes after, he didn't feel the need to have coffee or do anything to wake himself up. It was one of those feelings that you get after taking a really good, relaxing nap. 

But it was a little strange considering he slept on a cot next to Avery's hospital cot that night. She was perfectly fine when the doctor checked on her. No sign of fever, no swelling or redness. She was perfectly healthy and was eating fervently. 

"You can get her dressed and packed and take her home," the doctor announced. "She's good to go."

"Thank you so much."

"Not at all. I'll have someone gather the discharge forms for you by the front desk."

The doctor walked out and Harry picked up his daughter. Avery was still practically weightless in his arms, even being almost five months old. She cooperated surprisingly well as Harry changed her quick before putting her in the carry cot. 

Going home, Harry felt almost excited. He wasn't going home to Louis, but in a way, he still felt like he was. They made up for lost love and time the night prior, and he could still feel Louis' presence if that was at all possible. 

Like he noticed when he first woke up, Harry had to shut the curtains to keep the too-strong Sun out of his eyes as he sat on the floor with Avery. She whined a bit as Harry took her out of the carrier but regained contentment once she was set down on the fluffy carpet, Harry sliding off her hospital bracelet.

"You have enough of these to last you a while," he commented. "No more for a very long time." Harry kissed her head, the baby's blue eyes shutting for a few seconds. 

"I saw Daddy last night," he began. "He misses you, and he loves you loads. You know, he never once complained about you crying in the middle of the night, or fussing…He's the best, you know? And I really, really hope you find someone as amazing as him one day." He paused. "Of course, not until you're eighteen. Maybe twenty-five, we'll see how it goes."

He laughed to himself, laying down beside her just as she let out a yawn, her mouth forming a large 'o'.

"But really, Daddy is an incredible person, Avery. He loved you so so much and only wanted the best for you. He's still here. He's always here. I just wish we can be a family again, the three of us, without me having to be with you and not Daddy or Daddy and not you. 

"It's so confusing and really scary and…unexplainable really. Maybe, when you're older we'll both understand it a bit more. For however long this goes on for, I'll still be here, I promise."

He scooped her up and rubbed Avery's back as he began walking towards her nursery. She had her head pressed deep into Harry's shoulder by the time he had reached the cot. He stood and watched her for a few minutes realizing how lucky he was. He could have lost both of them, but instead it was warped into this twisted double reality. He would be able to see Avery grow up into this beautiful young girl and age with Louis and redeclare his love for him one day. 

Maybe they'd renew their wedding vows in a few years. Or maybe Avery would want to take up ballet, or want to play football like Louis did. Maybe there was a chance that he and Louis could have another baby so he didn't have to miss out on raising Avery. He didn't think he was ready for that right now, Harry felt almost like he would be neglecting or replacing their daughter. 

But there was a chance, Harry knew, that everything could get better and they could be a family in an exhausting sort of way. He knew that one day he'd be too tired to do anything anymore, or that he'd have a breakdown. But for right now, Harry knew he could suffice for both Louis and Avery. They were his world, after all.

A clatter of mugs and the sound of a low-volume television program pulled Harry immediately from his thoughts. He knew that he couldn't have turned anything on. Liam could have possibly stopped by, but he would have called when he walked into the house. He turned on his heel and strode downstairs, head curiously tipped to the side.

"Liam?"

There came no response, but he heard several familiar voices which began to grow a bit louder. He caught sight of his mother sitting and talking to his stepfather, her back facing him. They seemed really deep into their conversation.

"Mum?" Harry walked over. "When did you get here?"

Anne didn't turn around, and Robin didn't look up either. They just carried on. 

"Mum?" Harry waved a hand in front of her face, but she merely pushed a strand of hair back. 

"Anne? How would you like your tea?"

Harry whipped around and saw Jay walk into the room and hand a mug to Robin with a small smile.

Anne's face was a little pale as she turned. "Uh, just a splash of milk, Jay. Thank you."

"W-what's going on?" Harry piped up. "Can someone tell me?"

"Food's almost done. I'll bring it out when it's ready."

It was then that Harry noticed the sweet smell of blueberries and vanilla and eggs. Maybe there was bacon as well? But that's not what astounded him. It was the person who had just spoke, the one he knew all too well, and made his heart melt whenever he heard it.

Louis. 

Harry stared with wide eyes at his husband and tried his best not to smile stupidly. 

"Lou! Why didn't you tell me that they were coming?"

Louis walked past Harry with a limp, his brace secure on his leg. He paid no attention to him, almost as if he hadn't even noticed him.

"Is Ave asleep?"

"Haven't heard a cry from her room since she was put upstairs," Robin advised. "So she probably is."

"That's because I just put her down," Harry announced in hysteria. "I brought Avery home this morning from-"

Wait…

Harry bolted upstairs into the nursery. He hadn't randomly fallen asleep, had he? He couldn't have! And there she was, asleep in her cot with a blanket over her tiny form that would normally send Harry into a small obsession, but this time he fell straight into confusion. 

No one was answering him or even acknowledging his existence. Louis walked right past him, and Christ, it was still incredibly bright, almost hurting his eyes. He started to shake a bit and rushed back into the lounge.

"How've you been, Anne?"

Harry looked from Louis to his mother and watched with wide, concerned eyes.

"I've…been better. It's not easy, but I'm getting back on my feet." She sniffed. "What about you?"

Louis took a deep breath. "I miss him, you know? He's my life and I can't believe that it's been a month…Harry should be here, not dead."

He was dead? 

"L-Louis! I'm right here, I'm right here! I haven't left!" He gripped Louis shoulders in attempt to get his attention. "Look at me! Why won't you look at me?"

Behind Louis was a mirror in which Harry caught a glimpse of himself. From where he stood, he looked pale and clammy, but as he walked closer to it, he realized that he was fading. Was that even possible, even in a dream? And it wasn't fading as in losing consciousness, but fading as in literally, physically fading. He was beginning to see right through himself which only made him feel worse.

"W-what's going on?" He rushed back over to Louis who was staring down at his feet with pursed lips and teary blue eyes. "Louis, tell me please! Don't cry!"

He was beginning to feel sick and lightheaded. 

"Louis Tomlinson! Listen to me, please! Why am I seeing you and Avery? Why are you not listening? What's going on? I'm being ignored!"

"He shouldn't have died," he caught Anne whisper. "Harry was too good of a person for any of that to happen."

"No." Harry's chest puffed out with the choking breath he released. "L-Louis, I'm scared…Please, Louis…"

He looked down at his hands and noticed how transparent he had gotten in his reoccurring moments of hysteria. He felt unexplainably weird.

"Louis," he yelled, voice shaky and breaking. It got ten times brighter now, and Harry couldn't focus on anything.

"Louis!"

Finally he looked Harry right in the eye just as everything stopped, and he was gone. 

There was no more bright light, no clammy feeling. No Harry. 

Louis blinked a few times, chest rising and falling as he tried to get the shakiness out of his system.

"Harry?"

*

Nought

He could have been here for weeks, or months. Possibly years. Truthfully, he thought he was only here for a few short hours, but then again, anything was possible. 

He was dressed in all light grey colors and shades. He felt pure, and there were no scratches or traces of the accident on him. When he spoke, there was an echo. 

He was in an endless white nothingness that extended for ages and ages, with slightly foggy grey edges. It wasn't hot, or cold, it wasn't breezy, there was no other life or movement. He wasn't hungry, he didn't feel ill. He felt neutral. He was debating whether or not this was what people referred to as Heaven, but he eventually concluded it wasn't.

He called it Nought, which literally translated to "nothing," because there was nothing around. 

And Harry was oddly at peace.

The only thing there was a cloudy object floating far out of reach. It was huge, and vast, and if he ran under it he could still see what was going on. 

The Cloud, ironically enough, played out portions of Harry's life over and over. If he thought of a new one, it would change to that. Currently, it was playing out his and Louis' first dance as a married couple. He watched it over and over again, feeling the bliss and enjoying the music. He played it from his point of view, then as a bystander. He could feel Louis' presence, the weight of his head on his shoulder. He could smell the cologne that Louis had been wearing that day, and the way his long hair was folded over in a lengthy mane that Harry loved.

"I'm so sorry, Louis," he whispered. 

He continued to watch the dance play out.

"Why did I die?" he called into the nothingness. 

The Cloud swapped from the current memory to the accident. His heart began pounding, and he could feel the cold glass and searing pain against his ribs, before a scarily strong amount of air released from his lungs. Harry managed to catch his breath and focus back on the scene where the police and EMTs were rushing about. He managed to catch "dead" and "immediate" before he realized what they were talking about.

Harry died immediately from the impact. 

He closed his eyes tightly.

"I want to go back," he announced. 

There was no reaction, no changes in scenery. 

"Please? Can I at least see Louis?"

That was when something changed. It began to get windy, and Harry swore he heard faint chimes before he realized where he was. Nought was no longer surrounding him, The Cloud wasn't visible, but Avery's nursery with the motifs and endless teddies and stuffed animals was. Her little nightlight was on, and Harry caught sight of her in Louis' arms.

Louis was in the wooden rocking chair that stayed in the center of the room. He looked exhausted, disheveled and worn out. Harry's heart ached for him. He had Avery, who didn't look a day over five months, in his arms and was rocking her back and fort, a bottle in hand.

"C'mon, love. Finish up so you can sleep. Daddy needs sleep, too." 

Harry smiled softly and walked closer. This was all real. He could hear the creak of the flooring under the carpet as he walked closer to his family. He kneeled down in front of them both and looked up at Louis, seeing the traces of stubble on his chin and cheeks. Harry placed a soft hand on Avery's head and rubbed his thumb back and forth, watching as her eyes closed and the sucking on the bottle came to a full stop. He knew that Louis couldn't see him, he just had this odd feeling.

But that didn't stop Louis from looking up.

"Harry," he breathed out. The sound of his name on Louis' tongue really tugged at his heart.

Louis leaned back into the rocking chair with pure exhaustion, and a small smile on his lips. Harry stood and kissed his forehead, lingering there for a moment. He just wanted to feel Louis once more; his skin, the head radiating off it. 

"I promise that I'll be with you again soon," Harry whispered. "It'll be you, me, and Ave, I swear. In another life, none of this will happen, and we'll be us. You'll find me again one day, don't lose hope. We'll be together again, I know we will. I can promise you that.

"I'll watch over you both, I'll come back, I'll visit if I'm able to. Don't worry." 

He placed one last kiss on Louis' head.

"I love you, Louis Tomlinson. I love you." 

The warmth that went through Harry just before he left was full of pure reassurance that every promise he just made would come true.

He didn't doubt it one bit. 

Harry was at peace.


End file.
